Meet Beneath the Song of the Wind
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: [Pre-book 1] Malice stirs in the far West and it's enough to make them uncomfortable, but the woods of Lothlorien is still far enough away from that.


**A/N:** Finally writing something LoTR-esque. This for the 100_tales challenge on livejournal, prompt #010 – wind, and Aragorn&Haldir. Also written for the 5,10,20,50,70,100 fandoms challenge, fandom 24 (I think)/100.

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**Meet Beneath the Song of the Wind**

The sound of fluttering leaves and chime-like laughter sneaked into his ears, and Aragorn froze. Dry forest-litter crunched beneath a careful boot – and he _had_ been careful, well aware of the sharp hearing of the Elves that stood on eternal guard.

And yet Haldir appeared with barely a tickle to his lobe to stand before him, quiver slung on back and arrow hanging teasingly between his fingers. Aragorn, whose hand never strayed far from his sword, slowly unclenched his fist and relaxed. No Ranger liked the feel of eyes upon their back without their knowledge. Gut was never a trustworthy judge between enemy and ally.

The Elf watched the fist relax in amusement. 'Did I startle the fearless Ranger?'

'No.' Aragorn continued forward, and Haldir stepped into place beside him. 'Inaudible and invisible you may be, and yet your presence is as expected as the sun itself.'

Haldir laughed again, melody jarred a little by wear and strain.

'Your company have left us?'

'They will tend to the boundaries for a time,' Haldir replied. 'Lothlorien is safe enough.' His sharp eyes and sharper arrowheads spoke otherwise though, and Aragorn stifled his breath to listen to the trembling wood.

'There is more than just the winter abreast.'

The wind paused in breath.

'Are those the tidings you bring us from the North?'

A particularly thick litter of leaves crumbled under Aragorn's well-worn boots and Haldir turned. His own boots were as clean as they had been that morning, stepping up from the stream, and his path the same.

'I am but a single Man,' Aragorn sighed, observing his boots a moment before continuing on. 'The Gladden fields stink with Orc blood as they always do and the Misty Mountains bear a heavier gloom than the coming winter should grant, but I saw nothing unnatural.'

'No.' This time it was Haldir who stopped, almost soundlessly. The wind picked up; the forest whispered louder to cloak the pair in its grip. The Elf ran a slim finger down the shaft of his arrow, tips burning a little from the worn but otherwise flawless wood. 'Perhaps you have not.'

The Ranger looked at him; the other's face was gaunt under the forest canopy.

'Perhaps there is nothing to see,' Aragorn offered.

Haldir shrugged it away. 'You do not believe that, _Estel_.'

Aragorn half-smiled, the scars on his face dancing in the shadowed light.

'I may not have caught up to you in years, but I am far from a child.' His grey eyes sparked a little in the gloom. 'I have seen nothing, but I still feel malice stirring in the West.'

'You are journeying there.'

They had almost reached the bridge.

'I am.'

'With the Lady's blessings, I hope.' Haldir looked seriously at the Man. 'There are few Men who can keep pace with an Elf, fewer still like yourself: Aragorn, son of Arathorn.'

'Few Men have lived under the wisdom of Elrond,' Aragorn replied.

'None, I believe.' This time, it was Haldir who half-smiled. 'Save yourself.' He stopped walking once more, and the leaves continued to flutter in the breeze, carrying some tale. 'Perhaps I should have chased you through the forest like the days of old, as it appears we will find no better time.'

'I am grateful then that my pride will survive that trial. I cannot stay long.'

Haldir offered a hand and Aragorn took it, clasping firmly with both of his.

'It was entertaining to watch you creep about, making enough noise for the deaf to catch you unaware.' The Elf's features softened a little. 'The woods occasionally find themselves abreast in peril, but no enemy has yet made it past and the malice that stirs is still buried within the throes of slumber.' It was enough to worry them, as all omens did, but the smell of blood always succeeded that of ember-smoke. 'Can you not stay a little?'

Aragorn shook his head. 'Other places in the world aren't as fortunate as the Havens of the Elves.' There was a little bitterness in his tone. 'I am needed in other places.'

Haldir nodded. 'Then go on to the Lady. She awaits you, and I must return to my brethren on the boarders. We Elves may be lighter on foot and with sharper eyes and ears, but we lack the sturdiness of Men.'

'An army of Elves is still a force to reckon with.'


End file.
